Maya stood alone and saw everything, the sun touching the western horizon with a blaze of light, her three friends and the dark green canopy of leaves. No angels appeared with clarion trumpets. But she knew at that moment-knew with a subtle, quiet certainty-that she was carrying a new prophet, carrying a Traveler.
And the four little boats and the fifth boat as well continued on their journey, stopping and turning, then racing to the Sea.
